


Combat Ready

by katikat



Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-07
Updated: 2017-11-07
Packaged: 2019-01-30 22:06:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12662364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katikat/pseuds/katikat
Summary: Wounded pride gets in the way of rational thinking. Or, Mac makes a decision that Bozer is not happy with. Bozer’s POV. (Unbeta'd)





	Combat Ready

Bozer’s angry. No, he’s spitting mad, furious even. As if being sidelined by your best friend weren’t bad enough! But to find out from your  _boss_  that you’re being pulled from the upcoming mission on the request of said best friend, that takes the top!

Enraged, he flies down the stairs, not bothering to wait for the lift, down to the gym where Mac and Jack are beating the crap out of each other at the moment - or  _sparring_ , as they call it - and when he arrives there, he throws the door open, some very unsavory words already on the tip of his tongue.

But then he stops and stares because Mac and Jack  _are_ sparring and despite himself, Bozer feels enthralled by the lightning fast exchanges of punches and kicks as the two dance around each other on the mat, grinning, because they actually consider this  _fun_ , pummeling each other black and blue!

The guys are in their undershirts and sweatpants, they have light sneakers on and they’re sweat-drenched and flushed from exertion, but they’re laughing as they hold their hands up, bandaged thickly to protect their fingers and knuckles, and they punch and duck and block, pushing and pulling, kicking and rolling on the floor.

For a while, nobody seems to gain the upper hand, but then Jack does something rather complicated with his left arm, throwing Mac’s block aside, and he follows his maneuver with a sharp uppercut that he only pulls in the last split of a second so instead of delivering a punch that would’ve broken bones, Jack just taps his fist firmly against Mac’s unguarded ribcage. Mac  _oomphs_ anyway.

“And once again you left yourself exposed!” Jack chides a little breathlessly. “I’ve only been trying to teach you  _not_ to do that these -  _what_? - last ten years? Will you  _ever_ learn? Because I’m starting to despair here, buddy.”

Grimacing, Mac rubs his ribs even though he couldn’t have been hit that hard - Jack would never intentionally hurt Mac. “Well, I know that you’re there,  _always_ , having my back - or my side, in this case - so that I can focus on more important things.”

“Cute,” Jack says with a fleeting grin, but then he points at Mac accusatorily, “but flattery won’t save you from an ‘I told you so!’ this time. Besides, there’s nothing more important than protecting yourself.”

“The same goes for you, then, I gather,” Mac shoots back.

But Jack shakes his head, unperturbed. “No, the most important thing for  _me_  is protecting  _you_. And I really don’t need you making my job even harder by being reckless, the bad guys hellbent on taking you out are more than enough, thank you very much, no need to actually help them along.”

Mac’s about to answer when he sees Bozer standing there. He turns towards him and smiles. “Hey, Bozer,” he greets his friend. “Did you need something?”

At that moment, Bozer remembers why he came down here, that he’s  _mad_ at Mac. Stomping forward angrily, he snaps, “Yeah. I need to talk to you.” He glares at Jack. “ _Privately_!”

Jack’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise and he lifts his hands in surrender. “O-kay, alright, I  _got_ it. No need to give me the evil eye, dude!” Passing by, he taps Mac on the shoulder and says, “I’ll hit the shower. See you upstairs in thirty?”

Mac nods absentmindedly, frowning at Bozer in confusion. He waits till the door leading out slams shut behind Jack and they’re left alone in the gym, only then does he ask what’s going on.

“What’s going on?” Bozer yells, taking a belligerent step closer. “I’ll tell you what is going on! I just found out that my best friend doesn’t trust me! That he stone-walled me! That–”

Mac raises his hands. “Whoa, whoa,  _whoa_! Boze,” he cuts his friend off. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Bozer has to swallow and take a deep breath to get himself back under control. “I just talked to Matty. She told me you didn’t want me with you on this upcoming mission. You’re taking Jack and Cage, even Riley, with you but not  _me_? Why? Did I do something wrong?” he asks.

Mac’s face softens a little and his voice’s full of contrition when he replies, “No, Bozer, no. It’s not like that, at all.”

“Then _tell me_ what’s going on here, Mac! Because I don’t get it,” Bozer says, feeling rather hurt and rejected.

Sighing, Mac takes a step closer, too, trying to placate his friend. “Look, this mission, it’ll land us dangerously close to the North Korean border.  _North Korea!_ Do you get that? And if our target hightails it out of there, we might actually have to cross the border into North Korea. If we get caught… that will be it, Boze. No one’s going to come and rescue us. _No one_.”

“And you think I can’t handle that, is that it?” Bozer snaps.

Mac stares at him for a moment as if contemplating how to answer this and then he replies honestly, “Frankly, no. I don’t think you can yet. Not  _this_  type of a mission.”

Bozer flushes with shame. “But  _Riley_ can?”

“Riley will stay at our military base there, she’s going to lend us tech support, that’s it, she’s not going with us into the field. And we were ordered to choose the smallest team possible to raise as little suspicion as possible.” Mac sighs again, more heavily this time. “Unfortunately, military grade technology is  _not_ your field of expertise and you’re nowhere near combat ready.”

“Nowhere near–?” Bozer yells angrily. “I’ve been training for weeks now! For weeks! How can you say–””

“And you’re doing great, Bozer,” Mac cuts him off reasonably. “For someone who’s been training  _for several weeks_. But you’re just not good enough yet to take on the North Korean army, if it comes to that.”

Bozer tightens his hands into fists. He’s so furious he feels like screaming! He’s been busting his ass in the gym and with combat training and at the shooting range - and for what? To be left behind like this?

Clearly sensing his friend’s anger, Mac closes his eyes for a moment and his shoulders slump a little. Then he straightens up, and when he opens his eyes again, he takes a deep breath and says, “Fine, Boze. You want to prove me you’re combat ready? Here’s your chance.”

Frowning, Bozer watches as Mac walks up to the wall and takes down one of the training knives on display there. Returning back to Bozer, he hands the knife hilt first over to him.

“Here,” Mac says. “Stab me once, just once with it, and you can come with us.”

A  _test_? Mac wants to test him? Bozer’s anger climbs up a notch.  _How dare Mac be so condescending? How dare he?_

Snatching the knife, Bozer roars, and throwing himself forward, he stabs wildly, forgetting everything he’s learned over the past weeks in his blind fury. And Mac uses it against him, of course: he sidesteps Bozer’s attack, grabs his outstretched arm, and twisting it sharply, he drives his friend to his knees and pretends to cut Bozer’s throat with his own knife. The moment it’s done, Mac releases him and backs away lightly.

Dropping down onto all fours, Bozer punches the mat with his fist.  _Damn it!_

“Try again,” Mac tells him softly.

Bozer shoots him a glare, expecting to find a look of judgment or maybe even triumf in Mac’s face - but all he sees is honest encouragement. Somehow that helps Bozer calm down somewhat.

Slowly, he stands up and turns towards Mac, assuming a fighter’s stance, the way he was taught. This time, he won’t act hastily and in anger. He’ll think his actions through. 

And he does; and Mac waits him out. Only when Bozer knows exactly what he wants to do, where he wants to stab, how he wants this engagement to end, does he attack.

But it’s no use. He doesn’t even get within a slashing distance of Mac! Before he realizes what’s going on, he hits the floor hard as Mac flips him over. All the air is driven out of Bozer’s lungs with a loud  _whoosh_ when his back connects with the mat, and then his arm is twisted again, the tip of the knife touches the hollow in his throat, and he sees Mac lift his right hand and pretend to ram the knife deep into Bozer’s throat with the heel of his palm.

 _Dammit! Dammit! Damn it to hell and back!_ Bozer screams inwardly and punches the floor with his fist.

Slowly, Mac rolls off him and sits down, cross-legged, an arm’s length away. They’re both silent for a while, Bozer’s harsh breaths the only sound in the otherwise quiet, empty gym.

“Bozer,” Mac says very softly in the end and there’s an earnest look in his eyes, “you’re  _not_ ready for this mission. And I won’t allow you to get yourself killed just to soothe your wounded pride.”

And Bozer wants to tell him to go to hell. He wants to yell at him. He wants to rage against Mac and his sanctimonious attitude. But it’s really hard to do that when Mac’s staring at him with nothing but concern in his eyes - and when he just wiped the floor with Bozer’s ass, proving to him that he truly isn’t ready to go and fight the commies yet.  _Shit_.

Sighing in resignation, Bozer rubs his face. “Then when  _will_ I be ready?” he asks.

Mac shakes his head. “I don’t know, Boze, I really don’t. I’ve been doing it for ten years now - and make no mistake, I  _was_ trained in this,” he adds forcefully. “ _Not_ using a gun,  _not_ killing, if at all possible, that’s a matter of  _choice_ for me. I know  _how_ to do it - and I did, in the past, I  _was_ a soldier.”

Bozer glances over at him and swallows hard at the look on Mac’s face, at the memory of…  _something_ reflected in his eyes. And it makes him pause: does he want memories like that? Memories that will haunt him ten years from now?

“It’s been ten years for me,” Mac continues quietly, “and probably ten for Cage. Twenty or more for Jack. You can’t catch up on experience like that in a matter of  _weeks_ , Boze. I’m not trying to sideline you. I’m trying to keep you alive,” he says and leans forward imploringly. “Do you  _get_ that?”

Bozer lets out a long breath, staring at the ceiling for a moment, residual anger still bubbling inside him. He hates to admit when he’s in the wrong. He  _hates_ it. And he loves Mac like a brother, he would die for the guy, but watching him be all…  _brilliant_ and a  _super spy_ , too… well, a guy could develop a complex!

“Yeah, I get that,” he mumbles grudgingly in the end, turning to Mac. He was right when he said that being mad at Mac was like being mad at a puppy. How can you be angry at your best friend when all he does is try to keep you safe?

He sits up and grumbles, “Fine, alright. Go fight the commies without me, if you must. But it won’t be as much fun!” he warns.

Grinning, Mac leans over and pats him on the knee. “I know, buddy. I know.”


End file.
